


Pythagoras Never Had a Theorem for This

by Bellaphant



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - BDSM, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub, Multi, Power Dynamics, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-29
Updated: 2013-12-29
Packaged: 2018-01-06 14:49:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1108133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bellaphant/pseuds/Bellaphant
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Or, 'Teach you a lesson in the worst kind of way'</p><p> <br/>Alex wants fighting lessons. And Brandon. And Brendan.  Alex is kind of greedy, but Brandon's completely invested in teaching him some manners. Brandon is also pretty sure Alex and Brendan are going to be the death of him. He's good with that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pythagoras Never Had a Theorem for This

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ninja_orange](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ninja_orange/gifts).



> (A "triangle" with an interior angle of 180° (and collinear vertices) is degenerate.)
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> Thanks to VampireSpider for the beta and bullying me into...convincing me I should go with my heart and write this prompt. 
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> This might have come with far more words and feelings than the recipient asked for. I blame these boys entirely. I hope you still enjoy it as much as I did. 
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> Thanks also to svmadelyn, for organizing this. You rock!

Brandon would just like to point out, for the record or whatever, that none of this was his fault. Or even really his idea. He knows what it looks like – he’s a built, confident, older top, and Alex is all pixie eyed, nineteen and gangly and oh-so-innocent until he opens his snarky mouth. It wouldn’t be a difficult mental leap to see that Brandon's an easy target. But, if you were going to blame him for having both the Gallys on their knees in his living room in various states of undress on a rainy Tuesday evening in March, you'd be wrong.

 

Obviously, it's not like the whole threesome thing is new to Brandon – he's irresistible, naturally. He's done it before, and done pretty fucking well at it. Or at least, at the sex part – he was awesome at that, but the one time he'd done it for more than a few days he'd started to get worn down by the weight of being responsible for too many people’s feelings, the jealousy, the jostling for favour. It wasn't his scene. And he knows that the idea of a Machiavellian top who manipulates perfectly selected subs into a sex-harem for his own pleasure is an idea that's sold a million sub-romance novels (and a lot of porn) but that's not really Brandon's thing. But exceptions can be made – and this time it happened a lot more naturally than that.

 

Brandon's pretty sure it started out innocent enough. It wasn't really a surprise when Alex came to him, all front and chirping, but basically desperate to learn some of Brandon’s fighting skills. He'd been getting into a lot of scraps of the ice recently, and watching him fight was only a little more painful than it was funny. It was pretty regular, as well – Brendan would get in someone's face (mouthy, scrappy, desperate to prove himself sub that he was), and pester them until they finally snapped and fought back. Of course, Brendan is worse at fighting than Alex, so Alex always feels the need to intervene, fighting back for his friend or his team or sub-honour or something. One, or both, of them would end up on the losing end of the fight, if not flat on the ice, and then Brandon would have to save them both and finish it. Which was tiring and frustrating, and he was getting bored of playing bodyguard. Also, he could really use a season where his linemates weren't on permanent IR.

 

So, he agreed. Because God knows Alex needs the help. Brandon makes sure to keep it casual – there was no point having scheduled lessons, Alex wasn't exactly going to get time-tabled fights on the ice – launching himself at Alex whenever he got the chance: walking to a team dinner in a hotel corridor, heading to their cars after practise, in the middle of Brandon's living room. Alex only gets a few seconds to react, to get free from Brandon, maybe get a hit or two in of his own. Most importantly, Alex has to learn to get back up again. You didn't want to be down on the ice, unable to get your footing, while someone’s intent on landing punches on you. Apart from the element of surprise, the other thing Brandon works on is making Alex's reaction like an instinct, so he can take being tackled in his stride, like it's normal. Relying on muscle memory and _certainty_ is a much easier way to win fights than giving in to the red-mist that gets you when someone makes a particularly shitty hit against someone on your line.

 

Unfortunately, Brandon had almost forgotten the other natural reaction that you get when you're nineteen, until one evening when Alex springs a particularly obvious boner when Brandon's got him pinned to the floor. It'd been a normal evening – Alex had come over, Brandon had cooked, they'd had a beer each and were about to settle in for some _NHL 13_ when Brandon had launched himself at Alex's legs and brought him to the floor. And yeah, Alex had gone down kind of easily but Brandon had put that down to the beer. It's only when Brandon has Alex pinned underneath him, one hand pressing the small of his back down and the other wrapped round Alex's forearm as he twists it up Alex's back, that Alex flat-out whimpers, shudders, and drops his forehead to the carpet.

 

Brandon can recognise that noise anywhere, and suddenly Alex's easy pliancy under him makes more sense. The noise makes his cock twitch, and he's suddenly overly aware of the heat of Alex's skin under his too-thin t-shirt, the curve of his ass behind Brandon's shoulder, and the fact that Brandon really should be letting go now. Fighting all his instincts, he loosens his grip on Alex's arm, ready to shift, get up and let the kid deal with this shit in private. But Alex flinches when he lets go, turns his head away so his cheek is pressed into the carpet and suddenly Brandon's not sure of his next play. He bites his lip, takes his weight off of Alex slowly and waits for the kid to react. 

 

Because Alex is _the worst_ , he seems to take this as an invitation to gather his legs up under him, resting his weight on the arm that he's not left halfway up his back, _where Brandon left it_ , keeping his forehead resting on the floor. It's a fucking perfect sub presentation, head down, ass up – even his arm is in a position that's begging for his wrist to be cuffed – and Brandon wonders what the hell Alex thinks he's playing at. Brandon isn’t exactly anal about rules, but this sort of behaviour outside of a scene is asking for trouble.

 

And okay, Brandon's not saying he's an angel. He's not saying that he had no idea that this amount of physical contact and the gentle praise everytime Alex fights him off successfully, or rarely-but-brilliantly uses his brain to evade Brandon when he launches himself at Alex, was asking for trouble, but he's only human. It's actually one of the reasons Brandon's kept the lessons so informal, so infrequent – he didn't want to be engineering a situation where Alex would come to expect that sort of reward and punishment as a regular thing, and then fuck with Alex's head. He needed it to be Alex's choice – he wasn't going to push this, make this something it wasn't. 

 

But, fuck, Alex looks good on his knees, and if you added that to the way he went down so easy earlier, eyes wide and a little desperate looking, Brandon can't resist. Alex was clearly in need of something, and Brandon can't decide right now if he's flattered that Alex chose him for his, or affronted that the kid couldn't just _ask_. But now that Alex has started this, Brandon is suddenly really invested in seeing where it goes. So, he takes a deep breath, and wraps his hand round Alex's awkwardly bent arm, and pushes up, just a little, to see how Alex's reaction.

 

What Alex does is shudder, twist his arm further into Brandon's grip in a way that looks fucking painful and prop himself up enough to turn his head to catch Brandon's eye. He's flushed, blushing from his neck all over his cheek and up to colour the tips of his ears, and his lips are red where he must have been biting them. It's all the permission Brandon needs, so he reaches to press his free hand slowly into the small of Alex's back, more of an encouragement than anything, but Alex stretches his legs and drops to the floor, pushing back against the weight of Brandon's hand to rut against the floor for a few long moments, before twitching so hard Brandon nearly loses the grip of his arm, and whining Brandon's name.

 

Fuck. Brandon has to bite the inside of his cheek not to lean up, pin Alex to the floor with his hips and _wreck_ him. But no, unfortunately, one of them has to be the adult here – because Alex, sprawled out and twitching, is obviously no help here. So he resists the urge to grab Alex by the scruff of his neck, to lean over and whisper filth into his ear, and tries talking instead. 

 

Brandon drops Alex's arm, sits back on his heels and rests his hand over the curve of Alex's shoulder, hand on the small of his back holding him down. “Quit moving, Chucky, I've got you.” Brandon tries to keep his voice low, level. It must work, because Alex shifts a little, so his face is turned away from Brandon, cheek pressed to the carpet, but the twitching stops. “You know, that was really fucking rude, Alex.”

 

Alex lets out a low noise, but is straight in with the response. “What? It's not like it's never happened before. This time shit just happened while you were still here, rather than ten minutes after you'd left, so...It's not like anyone's surprised.” Alex is aiming for chirping, confident, and he nearly hits it, but his breathlessness gives him away. Brandon's pretty sure that it'd sound even less confident if Alex wasn't facing away from him – Brandon can't see much from this angle, but the tips of his ears are burning red. He's about to respond, when Alex says, “And I'm not sure you mind too much either, Prusty. Unless you're worried you can't keep up with me?” 

 

That – that sounds like a challenge. Like, it's a pretty funny one from Alex's position on the floor, but it's a sub asking to be taken down all the same – Brandon's been a top long enough to know this shit. It's instinct, reacting to a challenge, and suddenly Brandon doesn't feel too bad about holding him down in his own mess. When Alex whimpers, Brandon can't help but respond, pushing Alex's hips further into the floor as he speaks. “You're awfully mouthy for someone who's just come in his pants. Has no one taught you manners yet, Chuck?” 

 

Alex shivers a little, but moves to face Brandon, his expression open, even if his words are snarky – the mix makes Brandon's insides jump. “Guess no-one's stuck around long enough, B. Too much of a challenge for them, I guess...” Brandon wants to laugh, wants to show Alex a _real_ challenge, but this isn't a scene – yet, his cock helpfully reminds him – so Alex has got to start making some decisions. Brandon rocks for a moment or two on his knees, then drags his hands off of Alex, and drops them by his side. He ignores the noise Alex makes, talking straight over him, keeping his tone clear, easy. “Quiet, okay? You've got two choices here. I'm gonna let you go in a second, give you fifteen minutes to sort yourself out – you should shower, and I'll leave some clean shit outside the door, okay?” Alex nods, then makes a huffing noise, like 'what's next', and Brandon's trying so hard to do the right thing here.

 

He takes a long inhale and continues. “Right, so, in fifteen minutes, I'll meet you back here. If you're on the sofa, I'll thrash you at _NHL 13_ and we won't mention this again.” Alex nods, eyes locked on Brandon's, even with the angle, and looking like he's _finally_ listening, and Brandon continues. “Or, if you want to do this properly, I'll find you here on your knees, and we can set some rules, okay? See how much of a challenge you really are. Got it?” Alex bites his lip, and nods. Satisfied, Brandon scrambles to his knees, then offers Alex his hand. It's really not graceful, and Alex chuckles as they manage to get upright. He's still kind of red, and he rubs his hand across the back of his neck like he's not sure what to do next. “The shower, Chucky. Go.” Brandon gives him a smart tap on the hip – he's been so good at resisting – and Alex practically falls over his own legs in his hurry to get to the bathroom.

 

Brandon takes a couple of seconds to palm his cock through his pants before getting his shit together – it's hard to ignore the voice in his head that's yelling that Alex is naked and _wanting_ just feet away from him – and heads to the kitchen. He downs a whole glass of teeth-achingly cold water, then tries to focus his mind on chopping some fruit into neat slices and grabs a bottle of juice from the fridge. He takes them to the bedroom and drops them on his bedside table before grabbing some clothes from his drawers – they're going to be huge on Alex, but that's not his problem – and dumping them outside the bathroom door. Brandon heads back to his bedroom, picks out some cuffs, a blindfold and a small black vibrator and drops them by the bottle. His hand hesitates over a pair of clamps and his favourite gag, but he shuts the drawer instead – he doesn't want to spook Alex. He pushes the covers back, switches on just his bedside light, and checks his phone for the time – it's been about twenty minutes, and he can't hear the noise from the shower anymore. Brandon runs his hands through his hair, preparing himself for whatever he's about to walk in to. He's normally good at this, but this time he can't call it either way. He sets his shoulders back, counts to ten, and heads out to the living room ready for whatever it is.

 

What he _does_ walk in to hits him like a punch. Not only is Alex on his knees, hands in his lap, head down and facing the sectional where Brandon normally sits – he'll come back to how that makes his insides flip later – he's totally naked. Brandon can't help swearing under his breath at the sight. Alex must hear it, because he straightens his back a little, but doesn't look up. Fuck. Any worries Brandon'd had about corrupting the young innocent fly out of the window – that is not a rookie move. He sets his shoulders back, letting his chin tip up and his stance widen, imposing himself on the space around him and moves to stand next to Alex. It's been a while, sure, but this is instinct. This is on.

 

“You know, you're really bad at following instructions, Chucky. Not that I don't appreciate this, but this isn't what you were told.” If he concentrates, he's not sure he specifically said to put the clothes on, but the instruction was very heavily implied. Alex doesn't move, and Brandon reaches to wrap his hand round the back of his neck, like he's been wanting to do since Alex went down. Okay, he's been wanting it for a lot longer for that, but now he _can_. Alex shivers, but his head bows further down, and Brandon can't help but smirk. He moves to sit on the couch, spread his legs, and motions Alex to come closer. Alex shuffles closer on his knees, and looks up at Brandon. This time, Brandon doesn't hide it when he rubs the heel of his hand against his cock – Alex looks fucking gorgeous, all open and flushed and cock curved against his stomach. Brandon rubs his free hand across the back of his neck, and tries to remember he's a top with at least a decade of experience, who understands the importance of informed consent or whatever they taught him in high-school. He lets himself smirk at Alex, then begins.

 

“So, somebody clearly taught you this shit well. You've done this before?” Alex looks up at Brandon, but bites his lip. He looks confused, and for a second Brandon isn't sure why. Then he gets it. “Alex, this is gonna go so much easier if you stop thinking you know the rules before I've made them. Remember who's in charge here, okay?” Alex chews his lip for a moment more, looks affronted, but then nods. “Right. So you can talk when you want, be as loud as you want, whatever. But you go and _stay_ where you're put, and this time you don't come until you're told, right?” Alex nods, and Brandon rewards him by reaching to ruffle his hair affectionately, grinding his palm against his cock when Alex leans into the touch. Brandon runs his fingers down Alex's cheek, then gives it a smart tap when Alex's eyes flutter.

 

“You haven't answered me, Chucky.” The look of concentration on Alex's face as he tries to remember the question makes Brandon bite his lip – laughing at a sub in your first scene is a really bad move – and then Alex finally answers.

 

“Um, one or two dudes in highschool, just kiddy shit, and then like, three people here. Not for long, though. I'm clean though, got tested.” Brandon raises his eyebrow a little – he's only been here for a year, but he's not one to judge.

 

“Good. Me too.” He tries really hard to keep this level, to not respond to that information by thinking too hard about filling Alex with his come, and gets back to the point. “So, we're going to play tonight, with standard rules – no marks that last for more than a day, no bathroom wierdness, and you get to pick a safeword. After that, we can talk a bit more about what you like, okay?” Alex nods again, and shifts his weight on his knees. Brandon sympathises – he remembers being nineteen, and just wanting to get the fuck on with it, but this shit is important.

 

“Yeah, cool. Safeword is Leafs.” Brandon gives Alex a half smile, and he carries on. “I mean, holding me down, obviously. You've gotta...I want you to make me take it, yeah?” Alex blushes, but holds Brandon's eyes, and he looks really fucking vulnerable for a second. None of that is an issue for Brandon's cock, apparently, and it's time to shift this up a gear.

 

“Trust me, you will. Gonna make you beg. Bedroom.” Brandon stands, and Alex looks up at him for a second and then uncurls into a standing position. Brandon feels oddly proud watching him for a second – for once, Alex hasn't tried to second guess him, do something stupid like crawl. He's also really fucking turned on by the grace of it – Alex rocks back on his toes and then pushes upright in one smooth motion – either subbing helps improve his coordination skills, or Alex has had practice. Or, and probably more likely, he's just showing off. Brandon kind of hopes it's all three, not only because it makes Brandon's cock twitch, but because Brandon's seen Alex fall over his own feet before, and he could do without an elbow to the face at a crucial moment. 

 

Brandon heads to his room, with Alex following. When he gets to the room, he watches Alex clock the cuffs, watches the small smile he gives. Alex glances between the table, the bed, and finally Brandon watches his shoulders drop a little, watches him lose some of his bravado. It's probably a sign that Brandon is an awful human being that it makes him want to push him just that little bit harder.

 

“Okay, beauty, you need to get up onto the bed, head down like before.” Alex sends him a questioning look, and Brandon smirks. “You didn't think you got to pull the sort of shit you did without consequences, did you?” Alex's eyes widen, and Brandon wants to kiss him so badly, but that's not what needs to happen. Alex is so close to being down, but he's going to need a little _help_. And it's not like Brandon doesn't love the physical stuff, pushing someone's limits, the thrill when someone goes that little bit further for you, takes more than they did last time to show that they can. 

 

Brandon raises his eyebrows and tips his head towards the bed, and Alex scrambles onto it. Brandon waits until Alex is settled, head down, to throw the lube and the cuffs next to Alex's knees and then kneel behind him on the bed He takes a minute to appreciate the view in the dim light of the lamp – the fuzz of Alex's ridiculously short hair, the surprising expanse of his back (he's not an idiot, he knows all subs aren't small, but Alex has a good inch on him), the tempting curve of Alex's ass. He doesn’t wait to get his hands on him – he's not gentle, grabbing two good handfuls and squeezing, relishing Alex's intake of breath, the way he shifts to push more of his ass into Brandon's hands. Brandon spreads his hands, dragging his thumbs down the crease of Alex's ass, spreading Alex open, showing him who's really in charge here. He runs a thumb down, pausing to drag the pad of it over Alex's hole, planning to tease him a little. But Alex freezes, and Brandon knows why – Alex's hole is loose, a little wet.

 

Brandon tightens his grip on Alex's ass, expelling air harshly through his nose. Alex must have done this _to himself_ in the shower. Brandon keeps lube handy, obviously, but he really wasn't expecting this. For a second, Brandon wonders about using it as an excuse to up the ante – get out those clamps he'd resisted or something – but he doesn't. For one, they'd not had the chat about the rules when Alex did this, so technically he wasn't breaking any. Also, he remembers being nineteen and horny. Desperate. Lastly, and most importantly, he's not going to lie, it's really fucking hot – that Alex was doing this to himself and thinking about what Brandon would do to him. That Alex has done this for him, that he couldn't even wait. He hooks his thumb a little, appreciating the give of it – and yeah, he'd looked forward to opening Alex up slowly, to making him beg for it, but he's not complaining. Alex is still oddly still, though, and Brandon suddenly realises that he's worried he's done something wrong. For all Alex's confidence and swagger, Brandon's finding it hard to keep his inexperience at the front of his mind. Subbing for someone new can be kind of scary – Brandon's slept with enough subs, read enough pamphlets, gone to enough _Diversity in Sports_ seminars to know that, to want to make Alex feel safe as well as good.

 

Not wanting to freak Alex out, Brandon speaks, keeping his voice quiet. “'S'ok, Chucky. Being so good for me.” He pauses, and feels Alex relax a little, spine stretching, pushing his ass further against Brandon. “Yeah. I'm gonna watch next time, okay? Get you on your front, spread those legs for me, show me what you do.” It's not really a question, but Alex whimpers anyway, makes a jerking move that Brandon thinks is a nod. He takes it as encouragement, circling his thumb against the tension of Alex's hole, watching as is spasms around him. “Fuck, Alex. You think about me when you did this?”

 

Alex's reply of “Yes” is pretty definite, but Brandon doesn't miss the little pause before it, the hitch in his voice. It might be something to think about later, but right now Brandon just wants more. With his free hand Brandon grabs the lube, and pours it directly over his thumb. Alex gasps, and then tries to grind himself back onto Brandon's thumb, circling his hips in a way that should be ridiculous. But the fact he's so eager for it, for _Brandon_ is making Brandon want to hurry this up. He replaces his thumb with his finger, pushing it to the second knuckle in one movement – he's not gentle, figures Alex worked himself over pretty well in the shower. He watches Alex arch his hips, up and then back towards Brandon, watches his hands fist the sheets, and he quickly uses his clean hand to unbutton his pants. It's been good for him, being fully clothed while Alex was naked, _vulnerable_ , and he doesn't bother to remove his pants, just pushes his clothes down to his knees and finally frees his aching dick. He strokes himself a few times, lazy thrusts in time with the movement of his finger into Alex, revelling in the feeling of Alex opening up for him, letting his whole finger in.

 

He's just wondering about adding another, when Alex shifts slightly to make eye-contact. His pupils are blown and his lips bitten, and his cheek is creased from where he's been pushing it into the pillow. “Fuck, Prusty, please...” His voice cracks, and Brandon reluctantly lets go of his dick and drags his finger slowly out of Alex, reaching to grip Alex's hip and dragging him closer until he can slot Alex's ass against him, letting himself rut through Alex's crack a few times. Alex's eyes widen, and he reaches back to grab Brandon's hand that's wrapped around his hip.

 

He doesn't get there though – Brandon grabs his wrist and forces it back to the bed. He's pretty sure he's just made Alex completely forget that Brandon had promised there would be consequences. If he's being honest, Alex's ass kind of made him forget as well. But he's had a lot of practice at this. 

 

When Brandon sits back on his heels, hovers his hand over the curve of Alex's ass to line up his strike and brings his hand, palm flat, down in one loud crack, Alex's shout is more of surprise than pain. He doesn't move though, apart from to rock into the next couple of blows that Brandon gives. And Alex's ass is ripe for spanking, pale and round and Brandon needs to see his marks left on it. Brandon waits until the skin starts to turn a little pink before pausing. “That was just for fun. Now we're gonna get back to those consequences. One for every year, okay?”

 

“Mine or yours, B?” Brandon's glad Alex is facing away from him and can't see how close Brandon comes to laughing – even like this, Alex can't stop running his mouth. It'd be more effective if he wasn't already breathless, though.

 

“Yours. You're lucky tonight.” Alex giggles, which is kind of reassuring, and Brandon rewards him with a thorough grope of his ass before bringing his hand down in one hard smack. Alex is pretty still, pretty silent, muffling his noises in the pillows, all the way until fourteen, where he starts to lose it a bit – he's wriggling his hips between strikes, shoulders heaving and he's brought his hand up to cover his face. Brandon hesitates for around a minute, before Alex starts making noises. No, wait – saying words.

 

“Thought you said you'd make me take it, Prusty.” Brandon gives a warning growl – he was just being _careful_ , he was nowhere near done. Alex raises his head, tries to turn to look at Brandon. Brandon slaps him hard across the curve of his thigh, and Alex freezes. “No, I mean...I'm not complaining, Jesus. I just...I _can_ take it. I'm kinda bad at this sometimes, but I want...” Alex takes in a few gulping breaths as Brandon watches his whole back shudder under the strain. “Make me, yeah? Even if I fight or cry or do something stupid.” And yeah, Brandon gets that – he's pretty sure Alex is one of the switchiest subs Brandon's ever been with. Alex wants it, but he doesn't want anyone to give it to him easy – not even himself. 

 

If it means Brandon has to push a bit harder, that's pretty okay with him. The next two blows are open palmed and hard enough to leave prints – the impact spreading from the heel of his hand all the way through to his fingertips. Alex _keens_ , but drops his head back to the pillow. Brandon reaches to drag his arms away from where he'd instinctively put them to cover his face – he wants to hear. Just because he's taking it easy on him, doesn't mean he's going to be nice. Hearing a sub fall apart from him is one of the hottest things Brandon can get.

 

“I _am_ gonna make you, Chucky. Gonna make you so fucking loud, but I wanna hear it, okay?” Alex nods and Brandon rewards him (and himself) by stroking his hands over Alex's cheeks, groaning slightly at the warmth of them. Warmth that he put there. Brandon needs to get in him, like, yesterday, so the last three slaps are hard, over the crease of Alex's thigh, the kind of blows that make Alex rock forward onto the bed, nearly off of his knees, and leave Brandon's hands stinging. Alex whines, and then stills. Brandon grabs his cheeks – he knows it's going to sting, but Alex doesn't move. He's finally down, and Brandon can't help but run his thumbs back over Alex's hole. Alex lets out a long breath, and shifts his legs a little, unconsciously letting Brandon in. It's gorgeous, and Brandon's been trying so hard to keep the desperation out of his actions for Alex's sake, but he can't hold it together anymore.

 

He grabs the lube, squirting far too much into his hand, and then finally, finally he gets to give his dick a few harsh strokes. He snakes his other hand through Alex's deliciously spread legs – he wants Alex to enjoy this. But, to his immense surprise and yeah, a little bit of pride, Alex is hard. He's usually had to work a little to get his partner’s attention back after a hard spanking, but Alex is right there with him. He's not sure why he’s so surprised – Alex hadn't exactly been subtle about how much he needed to be pushed. Brandon wraps his hand round as best he can, with the awkward angle, and Alex swears, whimpering Brandon's name. He jacks them at about the same speed for a few moments, and then drags his hand back, taking time to roll Alex's balls appreciatively, and then uses it to squeeze more lube over Alex. He's still wet, and when Brandon pushes his thumb in, he's still pretty open.

 

All his instincts are screaming at him to just do it already. He's a good judge of this sort of shit – it's going to be tight, but he can't hold back any longer. He shifts himself up behind Alex, dick in one hand and holding Alex's cheeks open with the other. He presses his thighs against Alex's, dragging his dick over Alex's hole. “Gonna fuck you now, Alex. Gonna be so good for me, yeah?” Alex shivers, wriggling his ass back so his rim catches on Brandon's dick, and that's it. Brandon presses forwards, trailing his hand to Alex's hip and pulling him back. He pushes forward in one steady move, not stopping or speeding up when Alex moans or breathes in sharply, until he's balls deep in Alex. It's fucking perfect, and he revels in the tight, gripping heat of it for a while before dragging Alex back by his hip, just to feel Alex closer. Alex seems to take it as a hint though, rocking back and forwards, using his elbows to pivot himself. The friction is torture, and Brandon lets him move for a while, before sliding his free hand to the small of Alex's back, where it was earlier, and tightens his grip on his hip. Alex stills, because he's finally learning, and Brandon uses the opportunity to pull back before pushing in in one sharp thrust.

 

The high-pitched whining noise that Alex makes means he has to do it again, and again. He sets up a punishing rhythm, using the hand on Alex's back to keep him down. When he leans forward to put some weight on it, the angle must change for Alex, because he's suddenly scrabbling at the sheets with his hands, and moaning Brandon’s name. It's so good, so tight and hot, that he has to reach round, arm wrapped around Alex's hip keeping him close, and fist Alex's dick – he's not going to last much longer. Alex's hips cant, giving Brandon a better angle to grind down into as he thrusts in, and they both swear when Brandon manages to thumb Alex's slit as he circles his hips, buried deep. He's just started to lose control, babbling stupid toppy nonsense about making Alex his, coming inside him, how Alex is going to have Brandon inside him and on him and how Brandon's going to own him, when Alex arches his back, forcing Brandon just a little deeper, and then flings his arm up behind his back.

 

Brandon's kind of fatally distracted, and he wonders what is happening for a second, before he gets it. Alex wants what they had before. Brandon's so close – the move is so fucking obvious, blatant, needy, that it makes him wish Alex was closer, that he could bite into his shoulder, mark him up some more. But he can only grab Alex's wrist, twist the grip a little like he's twisting his wrist over the head of Alex's dick. “Come for me, Alex.” Brandon manages to grit out, tugging Alex's arm back and thrusting into Alex. He only just manages to last – Alex tenses under him, damn nearly screams his name, and comes all over Brandon's hand, rippling over Brandon's dick. Brandon gives two more desperate thrusts before losing control, forcing himself deep into Alex and coming inside him.

 

He pulls out slowly, wincing slightly when he hears Alex try to breathe himself through the discomfort, and drops by Alex's side. He's reassuringly boneless and Brandon gathers him to his chest in one easy motion. Alex's face is wet, which Brandon is a little unsure about – he hadn’t noticed Alex crying, but he knows Alex would have told him to stop if he didn't want it. Alex seems embarrassed about it, ducking his head to drop clumsy, lazy kisses over Brandon’s chest. It reminds Brandon that they've not even kissed yet and the idea makes him laugh, low and deep. He's happy - fucked out, with a gorgeous sub next to him – and it only gets better when Alex raises his head, and shyly presses his lips to Brandon's. It's easy, slow, and Brandon lets himself indulge a little before pulling away.

 

“You good?” Brandon keeps a protective, possessive hand on Alex's hip, and can't help but grin when Alex pushes into it, testing Brandon’s tightening grip, then smiles and drops back onto the bed.

 

“You know I'm good.” That gets him a smart tap on the hip, but Brandon’s pretty sure that's why Alex said it. He blinks, a little, and looks up at Brandon – yeah, he's taller, but he's positioned himself so that Brandon can cocoon him. It took him a while, but he's gone down hard. “I'd like...Actually, I'd like to sleep. But, we can do this again, right? I'm pretty sure I _was_ good, so...”

 

Alex sounds just a little unsure, so Brandon cuddles him closer. “You were.” Brandon yawns, and Alex grins. Brandon drops a kiss on his smiling lips, feels Alex wriggle and settle so his back is against Brandon's chest. Brandon sleeps like a dead man.

 

He's expecting the morning to be kind of awkward, but when Brandon wakes up Alex is still spread out next to him, warm and solid. So Brandon gets up, makes coffee, and settles down to catch the news from last night's games. About half an hour later, Alex stumbles in wearing just his boxers and one of Brandon's t-shirts. Brandon can't help staring at his thighs, where Brandon's over-sized shirt falls, can't help wondering if he's wearing Brandon's marks. Alex throws himself down on the couch a little too close to Brandon and steals the remote. He changes to some shitty cartoons, grinning smugly and Brandon, and Brandon wonders how this is his life.

 

But apparently this _is_ his life, and the next few weeks settle into an easy rhythm – Alex still comes to his to hang out, and sometimes Brendan comes over too (it’s inevitable, really, and not an issue - the two are inseparable) and they hang and play _NHL 14_. On one disastrous occasion he lets Alex and Brendan try to cook, before ordering take-out. They scene about twice a week and Brandon learns that Alex is kind of awful at blowjobs (but Brandon's totally happy to help him get better, so it's not exactly a big deal), he _hates_ being blindfolded, can take around thirty swats with a paddle before sobbing, and that although it takes a while for both of them to settle into it, Brandon loves having Alex on his knees when they're just hanging out. Alex is never going to be the kind of sub that's into hand-feeding and service – the kid bitches enough when Brandon makes him tidy up after he's made a mess making dinner – but he reacts really fucking well to praise and being pinned to the bed while Brandon fucks him. And that's all fine with Brandon.

 

Sometimes, he's hesitant – some of this seems a bit much too soon, too young (okay, it isn't often, he admits, but Brandon’s a _good person_ as well as a fucking good top) but Alex soon turns out to be basically a slut in the best way. He crawls into Brandon's bed when Brandon suggests he goes home, making out with him against the kitchen counter to distract them from washing up, and just once trying to run one out against Brandon's leg while he was getting a spanking. (The next time, Brandon made him hold himself up on his hands on knees, and paddled him every time his body dipped towards the bed). 

 

Alex is pretty damn mouthy too. Like, it's hard to be worried about manipulating Alex or whatever, when he'll chirp at you for three hours 'til you’re banging your head against the wall in frustration, and then suddenly he's somehow naked on your sofa and arching into you when you rake your nails into his thighs. And Brandon tries to make it not all about sex, too – he wants them both to do this right. He makes sure they talk about all this stuff, stupid stuff about sub etiquette and safe-words and _articulating your needs_ , because if Brandon's going to be 100% alright with fucking a dude a decade younger than him, its got to be a little about learning, not just them getting off.

 

Alex is a pest, naturally, but he's good and easy and almost less hard work than Brandon thought he might be. Even if he can only stand the serious stuff for fifteen minutes at a time, he's making progress – the first week he only managed five. And it's kind of brilliant that it's more of a game to Alex than it had been for some of his other subs, because it's fun and different, keeps Brandon on his toes, makes him a little more imaginative, push them both a little harder. It keeps them both on their toes, and Brandon's kind of relieved that it means he's not over the hill yet. He plays hard, but also he keeps on with the rules, and makes them have awkward conversations about limits and new kinks to try when he makes them pancakes. It's basically awesome.

 

The only thing that's a little awkward is practice – the team have never stopped chirping him about the fact that the two Gallys worship the ground he walks on since the day they arrived, and now he's hyper-aware of all how he behaves around Alex, trying to keep his distance a little. But after a particularly shitty shift, or a loss, or even when Alex has made some really beautiful hits and some good passes, Brandon always finds Alex next to him, looking for approval or acknowledgement or just a few words.

 

It's fine. No, it's more than that – it's really fucking easy. Brandon’s fucked players before, of course, but he's never dated – or whatever the hell this is – people on his team before. He's pretty sure he's been noticed by the team: Carey comes up to him after practise one day and gives him what he assumes is the goalie equivalent of a 'tap that' speech. When Brandon asked Alex how he felt about keeping their relationship strictly to the bedroom, Alex spent the next two days acting out in the worst ways and took an hour on his knees, head resting on Brandon's thigh while he half watched some shitty T.V. programme to sort his words and _feeling_ out enough to shoot down the idea. And it's not as if Brandon _hates_ the idea of people knowing – it's an epic boost for his pride, as well as his rep. Everything's peachy (especially Alex's ass, when it's glowing from a spanking). Except from one thing. Brendan.

 

It's not Brendan's fault. He's basically the opposite of Alex – shorter, a little stockier, broad shoulder and open-faced. He's open in his stories, too, sharing shit in the locker-room about his life back home and his favourite book and whatever he ate for dinner last night and anything else that pops into his head, basically. He's easy, in a way Alex isn't – not slutty easy, but the easy that you wouldn't have to fight to put on his knees. And now it's like Brandon's got spidey-sense or something for him, like thinking about him in that way, thinking about fucking him has somehow made him hyper-aware of Brendan. He finds himself looking up in the locker-room to see Brendan look away, shooting a puck on the ice without looking and just knowing Brendan being perfectly placed to shoot and score. Maybe Brandon’s imagining it, but things seem a little awkward when Brendan’s over – Brandon's not sure if Brendan's suddenly standing closer, or if Brendan’s blushing more when he’s caught staring or _what_ , but Brandon notices. And from the weird vibe he's getting from Alex whenever they both come over, he's not the only one. But if Brandon's now sending out these massively toppy vibes due to the effort he's making to keep Alex in line, it's not exactly surprising Brendan is affected.

 

It's worse after a game, when they've both played really fucking hard. It feels really shitty to give the extra attention to Alex, and he doesn't want Brendan to feel snubbed or _bad_. That could be really difficult for him – no-one wants to play with a dude who's in sub-drop. So he tries to keep things balanced, especially when Brendan starts playing better, like he's trying to compensate, like he wants Brandon's attention. Praise. Brandon thinks he's got a hold on the situation until he's been playing with Alex for about a month. There's a really odd moment after practise where Brandon has Alex off to the side, one arm round his shoulder, hand clamped to the back of his neck – Alex had really upped his speed, and made some beautiful shots, and he totally deserves the attention. Suddenly Brendan is there, right in their faces, and he slips under Brandon's free arm and just looks up at him, like he wants something. Alex glares, more at Brandon than Brendan, which _hey_ , but then he sighs, and Brandon takes a second to look between the two of them before PK heckles them, making him drop that particularly disturbing (and _good_ train of thought). He drops his arms from them both, and when he taps Alex's ass as he wanders off, he just has to do it to Brendan too, to show the others it's all just joking about. The knowing look PK gives him suggests he's on to a loser there, though.

 

It's like someone's flipped a switch for Alex (and yeah, maybe Brandon). Suddenly, Alex starts to head over to Brandon's with Brendan, rather than without, and sometimes he's not exactly subtle about the fact that Brendan is the only one going home. Brendan doesn't seem to mind, though. In fact, quite the opposite – the Gallys go out to grab lunch more, disappear off to their room rather than go to a bar after team dinners, and Brandon keeps catching Alex just _looking_ at Brendan, when he thinks Brandon isn't watching him. And it's not like Alex is soppy about Brendan (Brandon's pretty sure Alex doesn't actually say one nice non-hockey related thing about him the whole time), but there's something going on. Brandon's never been the jealous kind, which is pretty lucky, because about a week after the locker-room incident, Brandon has Alex on his lap for a make-out session, and when Brandon bites down on his bottom lip he whimpers “Brendan.”

 

Brandon stills, but doesn't release his hold on Alex's lip, so when Alex's eyes snap open and he tries to pull away, he really doesn't get far. Brandon lets his lip go and Alex flushes bright red, and then tries to force his way out of Brandon's grip. Brandon's holding him tight, though, and he's got better leverage and after a few minutes of fruitless and determined struggling, Alex flops down against Brandon’s chest, trying to hide his head in Brandon's neck. That sort of shit won't wash, though, and Brandon drags Alex by the scruff of his neck to make him meet Brandon's eyes. He sees Alex's eyes widen in surprise when Alex clocks his expression – he's pretty sure the kid was expecting him to lose his shit, to be _punished_ , but the thing is, Alex is an idiot. Brandon can't help but smile at him, even if his eyebrows are raised. Brandon's only surprised that it took Alex this long, to be honest – he's been weird about Brendan forever, not just since last week. Alex squirms in his lap, and Brandon feels Alex's dick bump against his abs – Alex is clearly still horny, confused, and a tiny bit scared. It's delicious, and if Brandon ever wants to get this sorted, now seems like the best time. “Spill.”

 

Alex sighs, rolls his eyes a little, but takes a deep breath. “I...fuck, Prusty, I don't even know. I just, I really like him, you know? And we have to room together and he's always there, and sometimes when you look at me, he's the one that blushes, and...” Alex closes his eyes, bites his lip, and Brandon lets him. “He wants you, you know. Keeps asking me about you. And I _really_ like what we do, and I hope I've not fucked it up, but...” Alex's pitch raises, and Brandon watches his fists curl by his side. “I didn't think you knew. But now...”

 

“Hey, Chucky, look at me?” It's not really a question, but Alex opens his eyes. Brandon reaches to cradle his face, and drags him forward for a deep kiss. Alex is hesitant at first, but Brandon angles his head to allow access, and the kiss becomes wetter, hotter. Brandon pulls away first, leaving Alex panting and looking thoroughly confused. “Yeah, I knew something. Leave it with me, okay? Don’t worry about this at all, Alex. Far too complicated for little brains like yours.” Brandon smirks, and Alex headbutts him in the shoulder. It's not really a stretch from there to roll him onto the couch and let Alex rut up against him until he comes, breathless and needy. 

 

Alex stops worrying about it after, sure, stops sending Brandon worried looks when Brendan gets too close, invites him over to Brandon's more. But he doesn’t shut up about it, because he's kind of a douche, obviously. But it's only in specific circumstances that he does it, when Brandon has spent an hour or so with him on his knees, or has taken thirty swats with the paddle, or has three of Brandon's fingers inside him – when he's really fucking _down_ , when he's _safe_ – that his name comes up. It's actually surprisingly hot for Brandon, and yeah, Alex is not the only one that's been thinking about Brendan recently. 

 

But what's really got Brandon's attention is the way Alex talks about him, about wanting to be _good_ for Brendan as well as occasionally talking about putting him on his knees, about kissing Brendan while Brandon watches. Alex never seems to quite know what he wants to do to Brendan – having him suck Alex's cock on his knees, or have Brendan bend him over something and fuck him while Brandon holds him down. It's not just sex, it sounds (and looks) like feelings. He's tried so hard to do this the right way, and it's hard to resist an idea that feels so good.

 

There's one particular idea that works for Brandon – making Alex be good for him, showing him off, whispering filth into Brendan's ear about the different ways to push Alex's buttons. Alex is difficult enough without letting him get even a little toppy and maybe a good sub (Brendan's going to be such a _good sub_ , so open and eager – not that Brandon has spent too much time thinking about it) could teach him some manners. It's those sorts of ideas that Brandon runs with when he decides to up the ante. He spends a couple of sessions just talking about it, letting his mouth run with all sorts of dirty ideas; Alex is still kind of oddly embarrassed, awkward about it when Brandon talks about it he can't do anything but just _let him_. He stops talking back and just takes it, and a blushing, slightly defiant Alex really works for Brandon. It becomes a steady process of occasionally slipping a finger in with his cock, stretching him out, calling Alex a greedy whore, or shoving two fingers into Alex's mouth when Brandon's fucking him on his back, making him aware of what it would feel like with two. If he was just taken, used.

 

It's seeing Alex shake apart when Brandon says things like that that Brandon can't resist. Which is why, one rainy Tuesday in March, when Brandon has Alex on his knees wearing only a pair of sweats, facing Brandon on the couch, Brandon texts Brendan to come over, now. He's already unlocked the door, so Brendan can come right in. When the door knocks, Alex tenses, eyes snapping to Brandon, wide and uneasy – nobody knows that they're doing this. Well, not officially, anyway. But Brandon leans down, cups the back of Alex's head. “It's Brendan. You can get up, or you can trust me.” Alex's nostrils flare, and his hands, which Brandon had managed to get him holding behind his back, come up to his sides and clench, but he doesn't speak. Alex looks surprised, but not shocked – like, he must have known that Brandon was thinking about it, he hasn’t exactly been subtle, but Brandon hadn’t really given Alex a warning. Brandon smiles down at him, trying hard to be open, easy – okay, he could have done this with dinner and candles and shit, but he's pretty sure that Alex actually prefers it this way. He strokes over the nape of Alex's neck, reassured when Alex bows his head slightly. Brandon takes a few deep breaths, and then murmurs, “Easy, Chucky. You need to decide, but we can't keep him waiting. Gonna give you five – one, two, three...”

 

“It's open, Brendan,” Alex calls, and gives Brandon this _look_ chin up, shoulders wide and spread, jaw set. And Brandon suddenly loses the power of speech – Alex just keeps surprising him. Whatever he'd been expecting, it hadn't been that. He doesn't get much time to recover though, because Brendan sticks his head round the door, opens his mouth and then freezes.

 

“Shit. _Shit_. I'm sorry, I didn't know. Or, I did, but...” Brendan closes his eyes, like he's trying not to see, and Brandon tries not to laugh. Alex tries to turn his head to see, but Brandon tightens his grip on Alex's neck, gives him a warning look.

 

“S'ok, Gally. Come in.” Brendan opens his eyes, takes a few steps forward. Brandon watches his eyes flick between Alex, Brandon's hand on Alex and Brandon's face. He hesitates a few feet behind Alex, and Brandon watches his eyes drop to the floor, fixed on a point next to Alex. It's such a perfect innate, subby gesture that Brandon has to curl his fists to stop himself walking over to Brendan and pushing him down, showing him that yeah, that is where he belongs. But it's got to be a choice, like it was a choice for Alex. So he spreads his legs a little, straightens his back – he didn't say he was going to make it an _easy_ choice – and keeps eye-contact with the blushing Brendan. “It's okay. You can stay if you want. But you're gonna need to be down there with him. If you don't wanna get involved, come back tomorrow for Thai food. But if you stay...” 

 

Brandon doesn't get the chance to finish – Brendan drops to his knees, mid-sentence, and Brandon can't help himself this time – it surprises him into laughing. He was kind of expecting this to be harder. Had a speech prepared and everything. Alex flashes Brandon a look, like he wants to join in with the laughter, and Brendan flushes a deeper red, staring at the floor between Brandon's feet. Okay, that wasn't the best move. Brandon needs to focus – it's been a while since he's done this. Maybe the speech is still a good idea.

 

“Sorry. My bad. You're doing so good, already. Unlike Chucky.” Brandon rolls his eyes at Alex, and Alex rolls his right back. Brendan smiles though, and risks a glance from under his ridiculous eye-lashes. It's a good sign, so Brandon reaches with the hand that's not still clamped to the nape of Alex's neck to cup Brendan's cheek, tip his head back so Brandon can look at him. “We've been doing this for a little while, you're right. But Chucky's kinda a greedy bitch and he wanted you. Probably couldn't handle how awesome I am on his own, right?” Alex makes a frustrated growling noise low in his throat, but doesn't move. Brendan smiles again, but his eyes keep sliding away from Brandon, and he's stroking his palms over his thighs, like he's reassuring himself. Then Brandon twigs. “I mean, I want you too, obviously. If I didn't, Chucky would still just be pining for you.” Brendan lifts his head a little, and his hands settle on the sides of his thighs. He smiles and Brandon, then shoots a glance at Alex.

 

“You up for it? Are we gonna get to wear Prusty out together?” Alex grins, leans over to bounce his shoulder off of Brendan's. Brendan giggles and the tension breaks, a little. Brandon trails his fingers round Alex's neck, pausing slightly at his throat, before sweeping up his cheek. Alex bites his lip, then reaches for Brendan's hand, squeezing it tightly – it's the first time he's looked nervous since he let Brendan in. It's a beautiful picture, and Brandon is probably going to hell because he feels his dick twitch just from the sight of it. Brendan glances between Alex's face, their hands and Brandon's expectant smile, and nods.

 

“Yeah. Please. I mean, I haven't...” Brendan starts rubbing his thighs again, and Brandon watches him chew the inside of his cheek. Brendan side-eyes Alex, and Brandon understands.

 

“Okay, Alex, you should go to my room, find both sets of cuffs and the flogger, and strip. Wait for us on your knees. Hands behind your back, hold as close to your elbows as you can for me.” Alex hesitates for a second, and Brandon gives the side of his jawbone a sharp tap. “Go. Or we'll just do this without you.” It's a lie and a pretty fucking blatant one at that, but Alex pushes up to his feet, in the practised way he only does when he's showing off, and leaves. Brandon takes a moment, then beckons Brendan closer. Brendan shuffles forward, on his knees, until he's right between Brandon's thighs. Brandon leans forward a little, but the height difference still works for him. “You haven't what, Gally?”

 

“Lots of things?” Brendan smiles, and Brandon finally allows himself to touch, cupping his cheek. “I've done hand-jobs and I've given head a few times, but...not much, you know? And not _sex_ , Alex is forever chirping me about all the tops he makes-out with, and I, I don't? And always just, you know, with one dude. I can be good, but...” Brendan trails off, and Brandon leans forward to kiss him, dragging Brendan up with a finger under his chin. Brendan's lips part easily, and Brandon takes advantage, swiping his tongue across Brendan's lip. Brendan's up on his knees, but keeping his hands by his side, and he's being so _good_. Brandon pulls back, reluctantly, and runs a hand through his hair.

 

“That's good, Gally. Tonight, we're gonna take it easy, okay? Maybe some blowjobs, and I really want you two to make-out. Anything else, we can talk about next time. I mean, if you want there to be a next time.” Brandon swears internally – he doesn't want to fuck this up, and he should have probably been far more honest with himself months ago about how much he wanted both of them, Brendan as well as Alex. Brendan nods, and Brandon drops a quick kiss on his forehead, and then levers them both to their feet. “Safeword?”

 

Brendan smirks, like it's a stupid question. “Gloves.” Brandon raises his eyebrows, then tips his head towards his bedroom.

 

“Go on, then. On your knees, same as Alex. Shirt off.” Brandon turns to head to the kitchen, needing a couple of seconds to get his head straight, to make a plan, then raises his voice loud enough for Alex to hear too. “No touching. And the first one of you to talk gets gagged, okay?” Alex makes a frustrated noise that Brandon hears over the noise of the tap, but it's not technically talking, so Brandon lets it slide. 

 

Brandon downs his water, then heads to his room. And he thought that he'd had it good when he first walked in on Alex, but this – Alex is naked, he's turned on Brandon's bedside light (it takes him longer to get down if the room isn't dark), and he's facing the side of Brandon's bed. Next to him is Brendan, who's quite clearly checking Alex out, but he's topless, which is a bonus, and he's got his arms behind his back like Alex. Actually, Alex has been like that for a while – Brandon spent a little more time with Brendan than he thought, and he doesn't want to fuck Alex's arms up. “Chuck, hands on your thighs now.” Alex lets out a sharp huff of air, rolling his shoulders out and dropping his arms.

 

“Finally. Thought you'd forgotten about...” Brendan's head whips round so he can stare at Alex, and Alex stops mid-sentence, gulping on air. At least one of them had remembered. Brandon shakes his head, shrugs his shoulders.

 

“I'm not the one who's forgotten, have I?” Alex lifts his chin, looks like he wants to argue, but says nothing. “I was gonna let you decide what happen next, Chucky, but apparently not. Sucks to be you.” Alex makes a low noise, like he's taken a bad hit, but doesn't say anything. Clever boy. Brandon continues, “So now I get to pick.” Brandon tugs off his shirt, undoes and pushes down his trousers, before settling on his bed, back to the headboard, just _watching_ Brendan and Alex's expectant faces for a minute. “Okay, Brendan, you really need to be naked. Alex, you should probably help.” He watches Alex shuffle towards Brendan, nearly topple over. “You can get up, you know. Unless you like falling on your faces.” Alex rolls his eyes at Brandon, but helps Brendan to his feet, and they somehow manage to get undressed without any other incidents. Brandon can't help but grind his palm against his dick through his boxers at the sight of them in the dim light, naked and _waiting for him_. This is going to have to move up a gear otherwise Brandon's going to lose his control.

 

“Brendan, babe, you need to come up here with me. Chucky, think you're gonna show him your new skills. If you're good, next time it could be you.” Alex just nods – Brandon watches his pupils dilate, watches how he can't take his eyes of Brendan – and Brendan scrambles up the bed to Brandon, settling himself without any delay or shame into Brandon's lap, pressing his dick into Brandon's stomach and titling his head back for a kiss. Brandon can't resist and takes advantage, kissing him thoroughly, opening his lips and letting Brendan suckle on his tongue. It takes so much effort to push Brendan away, because this wasn't actually what he meant, no matter how good it feels. “Nah, idiot. How's Alex gonna get his beautiful mouth on your dick like this, hey? You need to be the other way round.” Brendan shivers at Brandon's words, and Brandon grins – this was a brilliant plan. 

 

Brendan shuffles so that he's got his back pressed against Brandon's chest – there's an awkward moment where there are legs everywhere, but he manages it – and while he settles, Brandon turns his attention to Alex, still standing remarkably patiently at the foot of the bed.

 

“Come here, Alex, gotta kiss you. And then I'm sure Brendan would like to too.”

 

Alex grins, and quips, “Yeah, and it'd be such a hardship for you to watch...”

 

“You're just lucky Brendan's here, so I won't reward your attention seeking with a spanking.” Alex smirks, like he's got away with it. Brandon adds, “Tonight, anyway,” and watches his smile fade. “I said, come kiss me. Unless there's somewhere else you'd rather be?”

 

Alex mutters, “Fuck no” and scrambles on the bed, kneeling between two sets of spread thighs. Alex has to lean round Brendan at an awkward angle for this kiss, but from the whine they both make when they brush against each other to do it, Brandon's pretty sure neither of them are complaining. Brandon reaches around, cupping the back of Alex's head and pulling him in for a kiss that's more about reassurance than sex – it's open, slow, and Brandon lets Alex nibble at his bottom lip, before tugging him off and tipping his head to Brendan. Alex's eyes light up, and he shifts to get closer. He lowers his lips to Brendan, giving Brandon a cautious look before they connect with Brendan's. Brendan's mouth opens easily, and he's so pliant against Brandon – his back’s against Brandon's chest, and Brandon can _feel_ as well as hear the little noises of pleasure he gives as Alex kisses him.

 

Brandon keeps one hand on the back of Alex's neck, not controlling this kiss but just reminding him that it's there, and drops the other hand to Brendan's hip, pulling him back against Brandon. He's kind of regretting keeping on his boxers, but he didn't want to spook Brendan too much, especially after the whole virgin confession. It’s turning out to be a pointless gesture though – it's not like the press of his dick against Brendan's ass is subtle. Brendan just wriggles happily into it, tipping his head back to allow Alex better access to his mouth. It also allows Brandon a gorgeous sweep of his flushed neck, which he runs his lips over, before getting his tongue and teeth involved. Alex pulls away to watch and both he and Brendan both swear when he bites down – Brandon can see Alex watching him, his eyes locked on the press of Brandon's teeth against Brendan's delicate skin.

 

Brendan whines and grinds himself back onto Brandon, who has to take a second to reach down and adjust his dick in his boxers to let it lie flush against the crack of Brendan's ass, so he can feel the way Brendan squirms. Brandon watches him arch up into Alex's kiss, Brandon's hands running over Alex’s shoulders, like he's clinging on to him. It's good, but it's going to get better. “Alex, babe, is Brendan being good?” Alex pulls away from Brendan, taking a few blurry seconds to focus on Brandon. Then he nods.

 

“Yeah. So fucking good. I need...”

 

“You need to make him come for me.” It's not really a question, and when Alex drops his hand to cover Brandon's hand, Brandon squeezes it, looping their fingers on the curve of Brendan's hip. He'd been a little worried about how Alex would take this – sometimes, keeping an idea just as a fantasy is more than enough, but he's actually behaving better than normal, seems more easy going. Brendan, on the other hand, seems to be getting more impatient, bucking his hips against Brandon's dick.

 

“Yeah, please. You said...fuck, you said his mouth. Please, I gotta...I'm not going to make it.” Brendan sounds breathy, desperate already, and Brandon uses the combined force of his and Alex's hand to pull him back against Brandon's hip, grinding his ass into Brandon.

 

“Yeah? Well, you can't come until I say, so I guess Alex should get on that.” Brandon pauses, trying to work out the logistics for a second. “Alex, lay down on the bed for me, use your elbows to keep yourself up. I'll take care of Gally.” Alex nods, frowning as he tries to wriggle into position and still keep his dignity. As he moves, Brandon leans forward, lips next to Brendan's ear. “You okay, Gally? You feel real good, but if you need to stop...” Brendan shakes his head so hard he almost smacks it into Brandon's, and Brandon chuckles, breathing out right over Brendan's ear, making him shiver. “I'm just gonna...” Brandon leans to push at the small of Brendan's back, pushing him forward enough to slip his hands into his boxers and pull out his dick, fisting it for a few glorious strokes before letting it rest curved up against his stomach.

 

Brandon reaches forward, running a light hand over the gentle curve of Brendan's stomach, pulling him back so that Brandon's dick rests between Brendan's cheeks. Brendan whimpers, but tips his head back, resting it on Brendan’s shoulder. It's almost daunting, looking down and seeing two sets of needy faces looking up at him, but he's done this before, he can totally get through the next however long without coming all over himself like a teenager. Brandon sweeps his hand down Brendan's stomach, revelling in the way the muscles twitch under his palm, and then brushes it over the head of Brendan's cock. Brendan jumps, and his hands come back to scrabble at Brandon's hips, at the thighs that are bracketing his, holding him in place.

 

Brandon gives him one sharp tug before wrapping his hand around the base of Brendan's dick. “Chucky, you need to...” Alex shuffles forward a little, tugging Brendan’s boxers off of his legs, until his mouth is centimetres away from Brandon's hand. “Yeah, perfect. Now, you think Brendan's gonna like it if I put him in you?” Brendan nods, frantically, circling his hips against Brandon's dick like it's going to persuade him – which, if Brandon’s honest, is a pretty good strategy – and Brandon watches Alex's eyes dilate, watches him flick between Brandon's face, Brandon's hand and the leaking tip of Brendan's cock.

 

“Yeah. That. Please.” Alex drops his eyes for a second, steeling himself, before looking straight up at Brandon, all fluttering lashes and flushed cheeks, and fucking parts his lips, hovering over Brendan's head, just waiting for Brandon. Brandon's not stupid – he slides his hand up Brendan's length, and shifts the angle just enough that he can drag Brendan's cock over Alex's bottom lip. Brendan's fingers tighten on Brandon's hips, fingernails digging in, and Alex's eyes flutter closed.

 

It's enough for Brandon, who manages to force out, “You've got him now, Alex. Show me what you can do, yeah? Everything you'd learnt.” Alex nods, the movement allowing him to take more of Brendan in his mouth – it seems like a trigger for him, because within seconds Alex is bobbing his head again, using his tongue over Brendan. It's sloppier than normal, and Brandon wonders if the brat's doing it on purpose, letting Brandon _see_ the slide of his tongue, the way Brendan's dick is disappearing between Alex's easily parting lips. From this angle, it's almost like Alex is smirking, enjoying the reaction he's getting from the both of them. It's hot as hell, and it's even hotter when Alex licks over the ring of Brandon’s fingers that are still wrapped round Brendan’s dick. He shifts slightly, tilting his hips so his grip on Brendan is easier and so he can drop his lips back to Brendan's neck. “Fuck, so good, Alex. He's doing so well, isn't he Gally?” Brendan makes a guttural noise in response, and thrusts his hips up wildly. Alex makes a small sound around Brendan's dick, and Brandon doesn't want Alex to be put off from doing this again by getting choked. He gets that some of what is making this good for Alex is having some control, having Brendan so helpless.

 

“Nope, none of that, Gally. Arms behind your back, babe. Gotta behave or I tell him to stop.” Brendan groans, gives his hips one last opportunistic thrust, and puts his arms behind his back, crossing them at the wrists. Brandon wriggles his free hand between their sweat-slicked bodies and wraps it round Brendan's wrists. Brendan stills,abruptly, apart from his heaving chest, and Brandon gives his dick a pointed look before Alex starts sucking again. Brendan soon tenses in a different way, but he doesn't pull his arms in Brandon's grip. Brandon rewards him by dragging his hand to the base of Brendan's cock, where Alex's lips can't reach, and stroking him in time with the drop of Alex's head. Brandon gives Brendan one particularly vicious twist before reaching to stroke over Alex's hollowed cheek. Brendan's hips start moving, dragging Brandon's cock along the curve of his ass with delicious friction Alex makes a guttural noise, and starts to work his hips into the bed, rubbing his dick against the sheets.

 

“Fuck, Alex, so hot. I'm gonna help you make him come, and then we're gonna help you, okay?” Alex moans, the sound travelling through Brendan and settling low in Brandon's stomach, and he reaches to grab as much of Alex's short hair as he can, pulling him that little bit further onto Brendan's dick. Brendan cries out, head falling back, eyes closed and biting his lip. “Yeah, come on, Brendan, show Alex what a good boy you are...” Brendan sobs, his arms jerking in Brandon’s hold, and Brandon tugs Alex off just enough that Brendan floods his mouth, come spilling over his lips.

 

Brandon pulls desperately at Alex's hair, and Alex thankfully gets the hint and pulls himself unsteadily to his knees, chest heaving, mouth and chin shiny. “Good, Chucky. Want you to come, mark Brendan up a bit, yeah?” Alex nods, hard, and drops his hand, wrapping it straight round his dick, hips thrusting in an awkward rhythm. Brendan finally opens his eyes to stare at him, and Brandon uses his fucked-out state to reposition him slightly, freeing his hands and pulling him far back, so that he's almost on Brandon’s lap, Brandon's dick settled between his cheeks, hot and tight and so close to what he needs. Brendan doesn't protest, just turns his head to smile openly at Brandon. He's about to fall asleep, and that's not quite the plan. “Hey, lazy, you gonna help?” Brandon bites on Brendan’s neck, and he gets the hint, reaching without hesitation to wrap his hand over Alex’s, thumbing over the head of Alex's dick, running over his slit. Alex jolts forward, closer, reaching his hand over Brandon's shoulder to prop his weight against the headboard, chest against Brendan's.

 

“Please, Brandon. I wanna...like you said. Let me come?”

 

Brandon nods, once, and Alex groans something that could be either of their names, and comes all over Brendan's stomach. He drags it out a little, staring at his come over Brendan's skin, then flops down over Brendan. It's uncomfortable – hockey players aren’t exactly light, and Brandon's trying to hold up two of them – but they're both so close, right there, and it's what he needs. He pushes Brendan so that he's next to Brandon, legs still tangled, and pulls Alex closer. He gets his mouth on Alex's as he wraps his hand round his dick, tugging frantically. It's not going to take long, a tangle of bodies, come everywhere – fuck, he can still taste Brendan on Alex – and he's so close. Alex's kisses suddenly lose their finesse, and the weight on the bed shifts – Brandon's confused for a second, and then there's wet heat over the head of his dick, round his fingers – he drags Alex back for a second to watch Brendan lick over his head cautiously, like he's testing, watches the way he flushes and squirms when he looks up to see Brandon watching. He jerks faster, tightening his grip, and drops his free hand to Brendan's cheek, reassuring rather than setting a pace. Brandon turns his face back to Alex, who kisses him like he can't get enough, deep and needy, biting on Brandon's bottom lip just as Brendan laps his tongue over Brandon's slit. Brendan’s eyes slam closed as he arches his hips as much as he can considering the amount of limbs over him, forcing his head into Brendan's mouth, and Alex's arms wrap round his shoulders as he comes harder than he has in years.

 

They're all filthy, sticky, covered in come, and Brandon doesn't even know who's knee is sticking into his back. He can't find it in him to care.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Epilogue

Breakfast is surprisingly easy – Brandon makes pancakes, Alex makes coffee, and that means Brendan has to load the dishwasher. Actually, it's all surprisingly easy – they get a bit of shit when they all walk into practice together, and miss some really easy passes because their minds are clearly elsewhere, but no-one seems particularly surprised: Carey even fist-bumps Brendan on the way out. Goalies are weird. 

 

And it doesn't happen all the time – Alex makes it pretty clear to Brandon that he only wants Brendan when Brandon is there, which releases a huge knot of tension Brandon wasn't aware he was carrying – and Brendan gets invited over about a third of the time when they play. He's kind of at Brandon's house most of the time anyway, and occasionally sleeps in the guest bedroom while Alex curls up with Brandon. Brandon doesn't stop topping them both at practice and through matches, though, with praise and targets and careful touches – they'd put up more points in the few weeks before they'd got their shit together than they had done for the whole month before – and it works.

 

It keeps working for around three months – sure, sometimes, Alex acts out for attention, and sometimes Brendan's a sulky brat, and sometimes Brandon's tired, and doesn't want to go out to 'this totally baller new bar that gives you pancakes at 3am'. But Alex settles pretty fucking quickly if Brandon leaves him on his knees while he fingers Brendan, and Brendan apparently really gets off on being spanked or paddled while Alex watches, so it works for them all. 

 

Brandon makes it clear that they only have to ask if they want to play with each other, that they can go home with whoever they want from the 'awesome bar' – they aren't his, he knows that. Apart from a few requests to jerk-off together on road-trips, Brandon doesn't ask, just enjoys the time they spend at his, whether watching shitty T.V. or making Alex watch Brandon take Brendan's cherry.

 

Which is why he's floored when they both go quiet on him for a week, dropping out of hanging out on Tuesday and playing on Thursday. He's about to ask them what they're playing at when they both text him and ask him to Brendan's. It's weird on all sorts of levels – it's kind of a dive, and Brandon hasn't been there since Christmas. Alex basically lives at his now and even when they aren't running a scene, Brendan can be found at least half the week. Brandon's pretty sure he knows where this is going, but he turns up on time anyway, even more confused when they open the door together. It's probably just nerves, but Brendan's house feels a little dark, oppressive. When they sit him down on the sofa, looking totally serious, not even chirping Brendan when he stubs his toe on the table, he's panicked – this is it. He was kind of expecting it; it’s not a surprise if they want to carry on by themselves, or they've found better, more appropriate partners. Although it hurts to admit it, Brandon knows that he's a little old for them, that part of why he's been so insistent on _teaching_ the Gallys to be better is so that they can do well with their next partners. But he's not going to be a dick about it – they've never said this wasn't temporary.

 

Alex is sitting nervously on the sofa, perched on the edge, when Brendan walks in with a black leather box. He settles next to Alex – which again is odd, they're always more comfortable surrounding Brandon – then he sets the box on the table, and Brandon frowns. He's got no fucking clue what that is. Some cuffs Brendan stole? A break-up present? A _cake_? Who knows what these idiots think is appropriate. He realises he's being ridiculous, and tries to concentrate on what the boys are saying.

 

“We wanted...we thought you should come here, so we can do this, like, on our own.” Brendan starts, haltingly.

 

“We thought it'd be better if you weren't involved, you know? If we did something that wasn't your idea for once. We know how important 'making choices' is to you.” Alex is kind of sarcastic for someone who sounds this nervous, and Brandon kind of wishes they'd just do it already. Brandon knows that breaking up with someone is shit at the best of times, but he’s had enough experience to also know that it's the worst thing in the world when you're twenty, when you cry and agonise and go home with questionable men in bars to get over it. He doesn't say anything, though, just listens.

 

“You've shown us a lot, though. And, even if this isn't what you want, we thought we had to try. We've been talking and it's time to move on.” Alex's voice cracks, and Brandon balls his fists, tries to look calmer than he feels.

 

“Sure. If you've both talked about it. I'll see you at practice – gonna miss optional skate tomorrow, probably. Let them know I'm sick, or something?” Brandon stands to leave, and Alex reaches and grabs his arm. He shakes him off roughly – he really doesn't need to prolong this shit.

 

“What did we do?” It's Brendan and he's asking Alex more than Brandon, he thinks. Alex jumps up, dekes his way round to face Brandon, and Brandon watches him drop his weight to his back foot – a trick Brandon taught him in their fighting lessons. Which makes even less sense than whatever Brandon was expecting. Brandon stares at him, lets the fight seep out of his muscles.

 

“What are you two doing?” Brandon tries to keep it neutral, but he clearly ends up with angry and threatening, because Brendan makes an unhappy noise from behind him. Shit.

 

“What are _you_ doing? We made an effort and everything – Brendan vacuumed, and I even got fucking candles, which you haven't even looked at. You're being a bit of a dick. Wait, are you actually sick?” Alex looks concerned, and moves further into Brandon's space, hand back on his arm. Brandon looks around and for the first time clocks the candles, the cushions on the shitty sofa, the smell of something cooking – it's like his senses had been blocked by nerves. He's clearly got something wrong here – not even Brendan thinks you hoover to break up with people. He drops back down to the sofa, beckoning Alex to stay close.

 

“Sorry. I thought...do you wanna start again?” There must be something in his voice, though, because Alex's stare suddenly goes from concerned to affronted.

 

“You though what? You didn't think....Fuck, Prusty, thought we were meant to be the rookies here.”

 

“Thought what? I hate you both, you know.” Brendan's petulant voice distracts Alex, who's currently staring at Brandon like he's got two heads.

 

“He thought we were breaking up with him. Don't even front, you did.” Brandon can only nod, scrubbing his hand over his heated face. Brendan looks briefly like someone's just checked him into the boards, but recovered quickly.

 

“No. We...fuck, maybe we suck at this. It was Alex's idea, I said you could just walk in and find us, but no, Chucky says we have to show you that we're learning to use our words or some shit.”

 

“Find you?” Alex takes one look at Brendan's glaring face and Brandon's confused one, and sighs, offering Brandon the box.

 

“Fuck you, Gally, I had a brilliant plan. You just suck.” The words are harsh, but there's no heat in them. Alex sighs, rolls his eyes like his life is so hard, and gestures towards the box. “You better just open that. Even we can't fuck that up.” It's light when Brandon takes it, and he rests it on his knees, throwing both boys searching glances before opening the lid. Inside, nestled on red and blue velvet, is a collar, and a skinny wrist cuff. “The collar...the collar's for me, if you want.” Alex manages, quiet and cautious.

 

“And the cuff...I don't know, yet, like Alex knows, but I want what we have. If we can't match, I'd like to be part of the set?” Brandon drags his eyes away from the leather to look at his boys – Alex is settled on the arm of the couch, arm over Brendan's shoulder. His eyes are massive, hopeful, and Brendan is gripping Alex’s hand over his chest, worrying at his lip. They look like he might say _no_. They're idiots.

 

“You've thought about this? Seriously?” They both nod, confident and sure. “Then yeah.” Because Alex and Brendan are the worst, Alex drops Brendan's hand and fist-bumps him instead. It's ridiculous, but it breaks some of the tension, and Brandon grins. “But these aren’t going on until you're both naked. Do you want to do that here, or at mine?” Brendan looks at Alex and grins.

 

“Yours. Pretty sure I burnt dinner anyway. This way, you pay for take-out, right?” Brendan leans into Brandon for a hug, and Brandon wraps his arm round his shoulder, reaching to ruffle Alex's hair.

 

“You two are the worst, you know that?”

 

“Yeah, but where else are you gonna find two slamming boys who'll put up with you? You love us, anyway.” It's a chirp, but Alex doesn't drop eye-contact and that hopeful look is back. Brandon's stomach twists – they’ve been so brave, he wouldn't have done this at their age, no way – they deserve some courage back.

 

“Yeah, I probably do. And just as well, looks like I'm stuck with both of you now.”


End file.
